


Off, Off, Forth on Swing

by R00bs_Teacup



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R00bs_Teacup/pseuds/R00bs_Teacup
Summary: Happy Birthday bb :) There are songs! Like you asked. Tho, some are cheerful, soz :'D https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVduM-W8GOJFwNV_-dCeWFEECcTcPjrp0





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/gifts).



> Happy Birthday bb :) There are songs! Like you asked. Tho, some are cheerful, soz :'D https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVduM-W8GOJFwNV_-dCeWFEECcTcPjrp0

Yuuri’s aware of Chris and Viktor playing around on the edge of the pool, taking photos of each other in increasingly risque poses and less and less clothing, swimming trunks inching down their hips. He enjoys watching those two flirt and play. He prefers, right now, to swim, though. Working off some of the adrenaline from the competition they just won as pairs. Chris got silver in the single skater category, so he’s happy too. Everyone’s happy, except Yuuri, who is anxious. He flips over from his back and dives under the water, holding his breath and opening his eyes, floating in the strange, silent world. He’s aware of the splash, and of Victor coming swimming over, and he knows Victor so he’s prepared when Victor pulls him up out of the water and claims to be his saviour. Yuuri leans into him, the bright energy and delight of him. 

“I saved you from drowning,” Victor says, swimming around Yuuri and standing up, water cascading off him, cupping Yuuri’s face. “Hello, fish.”

“I wasn’t drowning,” Yuuri says, because he has to say it at least once. “I was swimming. And fish can breathe underwater, so getting them out of the water doesn’t save them.”

“But you are not a fish. You are a pork cutlet bowl,” Victor says, laughing and falling backwards into the water with a hard splash. 

Yuuri lets himself drift away from Victor’s chaos, on his back, closing his eyes and letting the water take him where it will. He’s left alone for a while, and he flips over and goes under again, then swims a few lengths, then just floats on his back, letting the tension and adrenaline seep out of his muscles. The water is good, it hides the relieved tears. It’s his first competition partnering Victor, and he promised a win. They got gold, which is a relief, but he’s been worrying about it for weeks and it’s all got to come out of him somewhere, somehow. As much relaxing as he does, he’s going to have to have his crying fit at some point. 

“Chris is going to find food,” Victor says, startling Yuuri a bit. Victor’s hand cradles his chin and steadies him, and a kiss lands on his forehead. Yuuri laughs and tips his head back, keeping his eyes shut, and his lips meet Victors. “Upside down kisses. Food, Yuuri.”

“I don’t feel like-” Yuuri says, but he’s already being towed out of the water. 

He goes willingly. He doesn’t feel like being in a crowd, but Victor can be in a crowd (or be the crowd all on his own), and Yuuri can be with Victor. He lets Victor pick out some clothes for him, but wears his hooded sweatshirt, though Victor wants him to wear the warm sweater he gave Yuuri recently. He grumbles a bit, but smiles again when Yuuri holds his hand on the way to wherever Chris has chosen to eat. They’re in Ottawa, and Yuuri knows it a little from past competitions here but not very well. They end up at a pizza place, and find Chris taking pictures for instagram. Victor immediately joins him, and takes a picture of Yuuri. It’s just the one, this evening. 

It makes Yuuri cry, that Victor doesn’t try to rope him into the joy with Chris, or to take hundreds of photos, or any of the pushy things that make Yuuri upset when he’s anxious. That Victor knows not to, tonight, is touching. He’s brought abruptly out of his thoughts by Chris suggesting getting Makkachin to be in a picture, and Victor saying he’s with his ‘mother in law’ in Hasetsu.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, embarrassed.

“We are getting married,” Victor says firmly. “I always leave Makkachin in Hasetsu now, Chris. They take good care of him. Yuuri, you haven’t eaten anything. We have no more competing, we can eat all the pizzas.”

Yuuri takes a slice and Victor takes a photo of him, but doesn’t put it up anywhere, just smiles widely at Yuuri and goes back to chatting at Chris, who chatters right back at Victor. A few other skaters join them, but no one Yuuri knows particularly well, no one he wants to socialise with. They move to a bar after a while, to join more skaters, and are greeted with cheers as gold medalists, and Victor is bought a lot of free drinks. Yuuri and Chris have to help him back to the hotel. 

“You’re not cross with him for getting drunk?” Chris asks, looking down at Victor once they’ve put him face first onto the bed. Yuuri shakes his head, smiling. “Good. I like you, Yuuri. Goodnight.”

Yuuri gets changed and curls himself up beside Victor, in the snoring spaces he’s left. Victor strangle hugs him but otherwise doesn’t wake. Yuuri lies awake for a long time, breathing in time with Victor, holding tight to the sheets, lying very still and just waiting for sleep. He keeps almost falling asleep, but then his body will feel like it’s flying across the ice, falling, falling, and he jerks awake again. Then he dreams that he falls out of the salchow, like he did when they were competing earlier. But this time he doesn’t get up, he stays on the ice and everyone is yelling at him, and Victor has lost. He doesn’t wake from that, just falls deeper eventually, leaving the dream behind. 

He wakes in tears, though, in the morning. It’s late, and Victor’s not there, and his face is pressed into the pillow, so he can easily pretend there aren’t tears on his face. He groans, feeling like he hasn’t rested at all, his breath already coming too quick, his heart beating too hard. He’s trying to get a hold of himself, sprawled starfish-like on the bed, pillow smothering him (which might have something to do with the difficulty breathing), when Victor comes back and sings a cheerful good morning, bringing a waft of breakfast with him. Yuuri’s anxiety rarely makes him throw up, but his stomach clenches tight. Not in a sick way, more in a painful empty way. He only ate half a slice of pizza yesterday. 

“Breakfast,” Victor says, laying himself on top of Yuuri, kissing his neck, ruffling up his hair. 

Yuuri sits up, when Victor gets off him, and accepts his glasses. He shakes his head at breakfast, though, and goes to wash his face and drink some water, first. He’s more awake when he gets back to their room, and he joins Victor on the bed, a tray of food set across his knees. He eats the toast and eggs he’s offered, mechanically, not tasting it at all. It doesn’t feel like it’s filling him up, just a big empty gulf in him. 

“We won. Why aren’t you happy?” Victor asks. 

Upfront, straightforward. Confused. Everything Victor always is. Well, the confusion is mostly about how to fix Yuuri’s anxiety. Victor pets his hair and gives him more food and water, and tells him happily about the hotel and finding breakfast and speaking French for fun and bumping into Chris sneaking out of someone else’s room, and Chris not telling him whose room it was, and about the staff congratulating him. 

“I knew we’d win, of course, but I was gracious,” Victor says. 

“You should skate on your own,” Yuuri says. 

“So you can win me a gold medal. I will accept a gold medal won with me, if it’s from the Grand Prix,” Victor says, stretching out, setting the tray aside. “It is adequate. You can win me a gold on your own another time, when I’m too old to skate.”

“JJ’s back on form.”

“Chris is angry that he stole gold,” Victor says, sounding delighted by it. 

“Is he disappointed that he hasn’t qualified for the Grand Prix yet?” Yuuri asks. 

“No,” Victor says. 

“I don’t want to let you down,” Yuuri says. “By losing. I fell.”

“Yes, we need to fix that. You hardly ever land that one in competition, no matter how often you do in practise,” Victor says, frowning. Then he smiles. “We still won. They overlooked it. You move beautifully, it lets them give you points anyway.”

Yuuri nods, but he’s still trembling inside, and the great darkness is still there, pushing outward, trying to wash him away. He sniffs and rubs the tears away, but it doesn’t help, and he’s crying right now and right here, in front of Victor. His chest hitches, and it turns into sobbing. Victor sits up and looks bewildered and worried, trying to lift Yuuri’s chin and brush his hair away, see his face. Yuuri wraps his arms around Victor’s waist and presses his face into Victor’s shoulder, letting his fear rip through him, shaking him into sobs and gulping gasps and tearing breaths that hitch and hurt his chest and stomach. Lets it twist him up, turning him inside out. 

“Yuuri, Yuuri,” Victor says, over and over, stroking his hair and holding onto him, hand shaking as Yuuri curls and jerks with panic. “No, no. Yuuri. Never. You never let me down. I want to skate with you because you’re wonderful and it’s fun. I love it. It’s surprising. You’re always surprising. Yuuri.”

And then Victor’s quiet for a while. And then he sniffs. 

“Makkachin likes you, anyway,” Victor says, sounding wobbly. “Are we nearly finished?”

Yuuri nods and shudders his way through the last of his violent fear, letting himself relax. Victor gathers him closer and kisses his hair, lets him rest tucked under Victor’s chin, against his chest. He has no shirt on. Yuuri idly wonders if Victor wandered about the hotel without many clothes on. He watches Victor’s chest rising and falling, and lets his fingers run idly over Victor’s pale skin. Victor shivers when Yuuri gets to the skin nearly his armpit, and Yuuri looks up, surprised. Victor shrugs, and smiles, and then bends to kiss fervently at Yuuri’s eyes, the wetness on his cheeks. 

“Why did you cry?” Victor asks, anxiously. Yuuri smiles. 

“Don’t be anxious. I just needed to. I was scared,” Yuuri says. “It happens, and then it goes when I let it out.”

“Is it gone, now? You’re not scared now?”

“No,” Yuuri says, yawning and curling in closer. “Tired.”

“We can nap,” Victor says firmly, pulling Yuuri down to lie on the bed properly, the pillows bunched and hot beneath their heads, the covers tugged haphazardly over them. “Rest. Then you will be better.”

“You can’t fix it, Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs, stroking his chest again. “You help, and you make it easier on the ice, but this is just part of me. You are here now, with me, and that’s important. But there isn’t a fix.”

“You’ll always be scared,” Victor says, sounding miserable. 

“Yes. You’re sad about it, which is nice,” Yuuri says. “But don’t be. It’s wonderful, now. To skate is to love, yes?”

“Eros,” Victor says, lowering his voice. It rumbles under Yuuri’s ear, and Victor’s hand strokes over his hair. 

“Later,” Yuuri promises, finding the place that made Victor squirm before. “Later.”

“Yes, resting now,” Victor says, wrapping his arms around Yuuri tightly and snuggling down. “On me, so you can be happy and not scared.”

“You are a comfy pillow,” Yuuri says, with another yawn, spreading himself loosely over Victor. Who tightens his hold and makes noises until Yuuri holds onto him. 

He falls asleep, and this time he doesn’t fall- he flies over the ice to Victor, and their hands meet, their arms, they spin around one another in a complex whirl, steps spinning out under them. They turn apart and jump, twisting in the air parallel to one another, and then smoothly, smoothly, he’s away, ice scratching and sailing under him, whiter and whiter, distance curling, cut by his skate. He sweeps smooth on the bend, hurled by the wind, gliding, heart bursting out of hiding and air, pride, plume, Victor comes, his chevalier, the fire breaking from him. A billion times beautiful, dangerous. Yuuri dreams of the wonder of it, the pure joy.

**Author's Note:**

> ummmm.... soz GMH (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/resources/learning/core-poems/detail/44402)


End file.
